


Love Thy Neighbour

by SweetSorcery



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Apples, Bible Quotes, Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, Bottom Credence Barebone, But I won't be Graphic about It, Canonical Character Death, Couch Sex, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Heals, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Cuddling & Snuggling, Don’t copy to another site, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Falling In Love, Feeding, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Flirting, Flowers, Food Sex, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I Morphed Percy and Jerry into One Character, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Kitchen Sex, Language of Flowers, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Male Slash, Mary Lou Barebone is Her Own Warning, Men Crying, Mutual Pining, Neighbors, Non-Graphic Violence, Obsession, Only One Pairing Here, Oral Fixation, Pining, Protective Original Percival Graves, Protectiveness, Religion, Rescue, Rimming, Romance, Scent Kink, Scenting, Scents & Smells, Seduction, Senses, Sexual Tension, Shyness, Slash, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Stair Sex, Surprise Sex, Tender Sex, Tenderness, The Bitch Will Die, Top Original Percival Graves, Vampire Bites, Vampire Original Percival Graves, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-15 10:52:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18497452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: Percy Dandridge is jaded and bored. Eternal life has lost its flavour. Until a heavenly feast moves in across the road, with a trailer load of baggage, and he finds himself falling victim to an obsession he may never want to relinquish.





	1. Passion Flower

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
> This is an expansion of my own [Fright Night AU drabble](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18354467/chapters/43487519) written recently. However, I felt compelled to combine Percival Graves and Jerry Dandridge into one character, as Jerry kept displaying Percy attributes and Percy wasn't happy about having to lend Credence to someone else. This seemed the best solution. And Percy is a much better vampire name than Jerry, no? ;)

The first time Percy sees him, it's while he's got a skimpily-clad peroxide blonde hanging off his arm. She's cackling, and willing to go along with anything from fucking to being turned. She has no idea about the latter, and it's the only thing Percy's interested in, because he's had a dry spell. But she's hyper, and drunk, and he's already gone off the idea. At this rate, it'll be a challenge just to get his fangs to come out. He's done overindulging in cheap snacks picked up at bars; he's getting too choosy for his own good.

There's movement in front of the house across the road. An overloaded car with a rattling trailer full of old furniture has just pulled up. Four people pour out of the car: a woman dressed like an old maid, a young girl—same, a smaller girl with pale blonde hair and wearing a shabby and too-long dress, and a boy of about 20 dressed in a suit styled for a boy of about ten.

"Puuurcy," the girl on his arm whines, dancing in place as if she's either too drunk to stand or needs a bathroom badly.

He decides not to take any chances and pushes his front door open. "Go inside, the bathroom's next to the laundry around the back."

"'kay." She hiccups, laughs at herself, and tumbles inside, fumbling blindly for the nearest light switch.

All four of his new neighbours stare across at him, with varying degrees of loathing, disgust, and interest.

He waves and grins, and he's not surprised when the woman shoves the other three—her offspring, presumably—towards their own front door.

Percy shrugs, and is about to head inside, when he sees the boy's fallen behind and is still looking at him. In fact, he's taken a couple of hesitant steps closer to the curb, towards him. Percy puts on his most charming smile, and he's fairly sure the boy is blushing.

 _"Credence!"_ yells the woman from inside, and he jumps as if he's been shot and hurries into the house.

Percy closes his own door, stands inside, and rubs the back of his neck. He could scent the boy right across the road, like a thin breeze drifting across the low hedges; that kind of thing comes easy to him. The kid smells of fear, more than anything, just like the other two, but there's a spicy undertone of curiosity and excitement, with a base note of innocence. He smells _damn_ good.

Within less than a minute, Percy's standing at the living room window, looking across again. And of course, the matriarch of the little bunch has sent them all outside again, now that the creepy guy across the road is out of sight. All three of them are doing their best to carry furniture inside. The work is much too heavy for them. Percy frowns. He'd go and offer to help, but he can imagine what would happen, and it would still end up with the kids doing the lifting. The woman isn't helping. Probably shouting orders from inside. He can't stand the type.

The light over their front door is on, and so is the fainter light from the open garage through which they're carrying their things.

Percy leans on the windowsill with both hands, nose an inch from the glass.

The light reflects off the pale blonde hair of the two girls without much impact, but it makes the boy's dark hair gleam like black silk. He's staggering inside with a small shelf, and when he comes out, empty-handed, he looks at the trailer, with his head tilted, assessing what to take next.

Percy hums to himself, a satisfied sound of interest. He finally gets a proper look at the boy and realises that next door lives a treat: dark chocolate, soft centre. Skin so pale, he might have got turned already, but it's clear to Percy that the boy is every kind of virgin. He looks up then, as if sensing the disturbing thoughts about him, and looks right at Percy, dark eyes widening. Percy raises his right arm, forearm pressed to the window, fingertips tapping on the glass, hip slightly cocked, and smirks.

The boy stares as if he's hypnotised; which is satisfying, as Percy isn't using his allure. Oh, but he would, if need be. He would. He doesn't think there'll be any need at all.

The boy's lips are the colour of fresh blood, like a beautiful wound right across his perfect face. His cheekbones and jaw line are as sharp as Percy's fangs.

Percy's gums are tingling at the mere sight of him.

"Hey, wha's going on?" comes a slurred voice from behind him.

Percy groans. He's forgotten. "Sit, I'll be right there." He doesn’t turn away from the window, looks at the boy for another minute, and his gaze is returned right up until the older girl jostles him and is clearly telling him off for not working.

The boy tears his eyes away from Percy and reaches for a bedside table on the trailer, and Percy sighs and turns away from the window.

The girl he's brought home for a meal is spread out on an armchair, trying to look seductive but, really, only succeeding in looking wasted.

"Why don't you take a nap? Sleep it off," Percy suggests, walking past her and waving his hand over the crown of her head.

"What? Tha's not what I'm—" And she slumps and is asleep.

Percy walks into the kitchen, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl on the way. He takes a hearty bite, then looks at the now wounded fruit. The pale flesh is glistening, sticky with juice and shiny with his saliva. He rakes a pointed nail along the edge of the bitten area, gently denting and then piercing the outer skin until more juice drips out. With a low moan, he sinks his teeth into the apple, again and again, consuming the whole thing in seconds, before flinging the core into the sink. Then he wipes his hand across his mouth; it comes away sticky, and he looks at the shine covering his knuckles.

It's all he can do not to return to the window, let alone go outside and stalk across the road and help himself to some real sustenance. With an effort, he heads upstairs to his heavily shuttered bedroom. He'll put the girl, whose name he's forgotten, into a taxi just before dawn.

He falls asleep with a murmured "Credence" on his sticky lips.

* * *

The car across the road is gone, presumably parked inside the garage, by the following evening. There's a light on inside what Percy knows to be the kitchen; the layout of every house in the street is the same.

Percy figures his new neighbours are having dinner. He's not invited, but that doesn't stop him from crossing the road and walking around the side of the house to peer into the smallish window.

The four of them are perched around a square table—praying, of all things. Percy scoffs. He might have known after one look at the mother.

The window is tightly shut, and he can't be heard, but the boy raises his head, glancing around, as if he's sensed a disturbance in his environment. Immediately, the matriarch looks up too and glares at him. His plush lips mutter something, and he's bowing his head again, a few strands of hair falling back over his forehead, eyes closing.

Percy's eyes fix on his lips, then on the shadows his long lashes throw on his cheeks underneath the ceiling light. He finds himself wishing he didn't need an invitation to get into that house. He finds himself wishing for a kind of anti-allure to use on the mother and the two girls to drive them away. He knows instinctively he could talk the boy outside, if he was alone in there.

They eat after praying, though the food doesn't look as if it was worth the gratitude or the effort. It's a thin brown sludge with lumps of who knows what in it; it could be soup or badly strained gravy. Four pieces of stale-looking bread are sitting on a plate between the four of them, and each dutifully takes one piece and crumbles it into the liquid. Percy has no doubt it would be inedible unsoaked, though it's probably not much better saturated with the sludge.

After eating, they all get up. The mother points to the sink, and the boy nods and gathers up the dishes, then runs water into the sink and squeezes in a small amount of dishwashing liquid. The mother, meanwhile, steers the smaller girl to the staircase and gives her a shove, and she goes up, presumably to bed. Then she takes the other girl's upper arm, tells the boy something, and takes the girl through to the living room.

Percy waits until they're both seated on the ratty sofa, going over a stack of some kind of leaflets. Then he walks around to the window above the sink and taps it lightly with a knuckle.

The boy looks up, dropping a bowl in surprise and just barely catching it before it splashes into the water. He stares at Percy in horror, then glances back over his shoulder, then back at Percy.

Percy nods his head to the right. He lifts his hand and makes walking motions with his fingers. He grins, then heads around the corner of the house again, making his way to the back door. He has no idea how long he'll have to wait there, but he has all the time in the world, and then some. Or... well, until dawn, anyway. He knows, sooner or later, the boy won't be able to help himself and will open the door to find out what he wants. The answer to that is remarkably simple, just three letters long, but Percy won't be as unsubtle as that.

A short time goes by, a quarter of an hour maybe, or half an hour... time doesn't interest Percy very much. He's leaning against rough concrete, inhaling the scents of grass and gladiolas, yarrows and passion flowers. He smiles and seeks out the patch of the last of those, plucking one long-stemmed, wide open specimen.

He hears the lock turn, and then the door is opened hesitantly. A single dark eye peers around the door into the garden. "Hello?" comes a soft whisper.

Percy approaches silently. "Evening, Credence."

The boy jumps a little, as if he didn't really expect him to still be there and wait.

"How do you know my name?" he asks.

Percy holds the flower behind his back, his hand resting against the wall next to the open door, a fair way above the level of the boy's head. He notices his eyes tracking the way his white T-shirt strains with the pose, following the outline of the muscles and veins in his arm.

"I heard your mother calling you last night." Percy smiles in a way that he hopes is disarming. He doesn't think he's succeeded.

The boy looks gloomily at a point somewhere past his shoulder. "She's not my mother, she... she's my foster mother."

"Ah." No wonder Credence bears no resemblance to the faded, sour-faced woman.

"Why... why are you here?" he asks, looking worriedly back over his shoulder. "I'm not supposed to talk to you."

"Oh? What have I done to deserve being snubbed on sight?" Percy teases.

The boy looks awkward, as if he doesn't want to explain. "Ma says you look..." He lowers his pretty eyes. "She says you look evil, like a sinner."

Percy suppresses a laugh. He doesn't fancy alerting the cow to his presence. "Is that what you think too... Credence?" The boy's name rolls off his tongue like a drop of honey. He wants to keep on savouring it.

Credence looks at him, really meets his eyes, and then flushes. "I don't know, sir."

"The name's Percy. Percy Dandridge." He doesn't give him time to think. "What do _you_ think I look like?"

"I... couldn't say, Mr Dandridge."

"Oh, come on. Tell me what you think of me, and I'll tell you what I think of you."

Credence looks surprised. "I'm not sure I want to know."

Percy takes a step closer. The cords in his arms strain a little, drawing the boy's eyes. "I think you do, Credence. Besides, it's all good."

The softest smile plays around Credence's lips, changing his aura of innocence to one of unintentional temptation, and Percy barely suppresses a groan. "I think..." Credence says, thoughtfully, "I think maybe you do look like a sinner."

"Clever boy," Percy praises, smirking at the surprised expression on his face; he clearly didn't expect to be praised for being so brutally honest. "Nothing else?"

Credence looks at his forearm. Then his eyes glide up towards his broad shoulders, take in his torso at a glance, before sliding up over his neck and face as if no one's ever told him it's rude to stare. He swallows, hard, clearly battling some inner demon; or maybe the one sitting back there in the living room. "Nothing else," he lies.

Percy chuckles. "Okay, I'll let that slide." He leans in a little closer. As close as he can, anyway. Damn thresholds. The boy doesn't move back, just inhales sharply. "How about a little evening stroll around the new neighbourhood?"

Credence shakes his head frantically. "I couldn't!"

Percy shrugs. It's the response he's expected. He lifts the passion flower he's been holding and says, "Can I at least give you a welcome gift?"

Credence stares at the flower, then back at Percy. "It's a passion flower."

"Sure is. And a very pretty one, too. The red ones are rare, but they're my favourites," Percy tells him, eyes fixed on his lips.

The boy reaches for the flower as if he can't help himself. "Ma says it's a symbol of the crucifixion of Christ."

"Is it?" Percy smirks. "Or you could just steep it for some tea; good for anxiety, I hear."

Credence stares at him, and a nervous little laugh escapes him, clearly against his will. "Thank you," he murmurs, holding the flower up close to his mouth; it pales in comparison to their luscious cherry red.

"My pleasure." Percy smiles at him, knowing he needs to leave now, or his inability to get to the boy, and to get him to come to him without using his allure, is going to make him seriously uncomfortable and dangerous. Still, he can't help himself. "Come over and visit me anytime. I'm always around, between dusk and dawn."

"Credence?" comes an impatient yell from the depths of the house.

"I have to go," the boy says, his smile falling away as if it has never been there.

Before Percy can reply, the door has been slammed in his face. He can't blame the boy, who's clearly terrified of the dragon inside. He walks back across the road, thoughts on a suitable way to deal with her.

* * *

Percy is fairly annoyed with himself when he finally wakes up the following evening, after hours of restlessness. He's not prone to sleeping badly, let alone because he's been kept awake by thoughts about prey, no matter how enticing and innocent.

The first thing he does is to look out of his bedroom window. He can vaguely see silhouettes moving around in the house across the road, and he wonders what it would take to drive that woman out of the house at night. He doesn't find out, not that evening, but he does discover that Credence's bedroom is the corner room upstairs, and that his bedroom window is just slightly along from his own.

When Percy returns from a shower, wearing nothing but a narrow strip of a towel, he walks to the open window to see Credence standing at his own window—also wide open—and looking across.

He moves back a little into his dark room to not be seen, as he has no way of knowing his neighbour has no trouble seeing him in the dark.

Percy takes full advantage, walking around the room in nothing but the towel to gather up some clothes, making sure to pass the open window as frequently as possible. Finally, with his back to the window, he drops the towel, hearing the boy's sharp intake of breath, no matter how quiet it is. He smirks to himself and takes his time getting dressed in a clean pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He rarely bothers with underwear.

When he turns around again, the boy is still there, standing well back in the shadows of his room. There's a subtle shift in his scent as Percy walks to the open window—it's heavier on both the fear and the excitement. He settles and poses in the window frame, not looking directly at the window across to not give himself away. He figures the boy will leave soon, or shut his window, maybe his shutters too, to avoid being tempted by sin. He gives it a few minutes, until he catches movement out of the corner of his eye, and he has to look.

Credence has walked right up to the window, gripping the frame in white-knuckled hands. He's somehow even paler than the night before, but his cheeks are suffused with the heat of a deep flush. 

Percy can positively hear the blood pulsing gently just below his skin. He's not sure he can hide his hunger—so much more complex than ever before, for so much more than blood—when he meets the dark eyes.

Credence is hungry too, several kinds of hungry, and Percy can't decide whether he's more determined to sate his own hunger or the boy's. He thinks the most likely outcome will be that both of them will indulge in the very best kind of gluttony.

* * *

The next evening, Percy is woken up by a noisy slamming of car doors. It's just dark enough to get up and safely peer through the shutters.

He's extremely pleased to see the female occupants of the house opposite inside the car, with Credence left behind standing in the driveway.

He watches them leave and, as soon as they're out of sight, his gaze sweeps right across to Percy's house.

 _Yes._ Percy smiles.

Not even five minutes have passed before there's a hesitant knock on his front door. He wants to play it cool, take his time and make the boy wait, just a little; after all, he has a few centuries on him and should act the part of older, wiser, patient party of this game they're playing. He ends up giving it ten seconds at best.

When he opens the front door, seeing and _smelling_ Credence up close for the first time in 48 hours, Percy begins to know that a game is the last thing this is.

"Credence, what a pleasant surprise," he says. "Come in."

"I..." Even though he's the one who chose to make a move and come over, the boy hesitates. "I... shouldn't..."

"Your family went away, right? Will they be gone long?"

"A couple of hours, maybe more." Credence shuffles his feet. "Ma is enrolling my sisters in evening bible classes, and there's a parent-teacher evening at their new school too."

Credence is wearing another very plain, cheap suit, minus the jacket this time. His pale arms poking out of a short-sleeved white shirt look as if they're verging on goosebumps. There's a rolled up sheet of paper in his hands, and he's holding onto it desperately enough, Percy wonders whether it's a contract he's brought over; maybe he wants to sell him his soul? Credence sure is in enough of a state. He can feel it rolling off him in waves—eagerness, embarrassment, fear and... yes, an uncertain arousal he's not even fully aware of himself. They all contribute to the pulsating warmth of the living, breathing youth before him. Percy can't keep from leaning closer and letting some of that _life_ infuse him.

"Mr Dandridge?"

Percy opens the door wider, smiles gently, looks as inviting as he can without calling on his allure. "You came over, Credence. Surely, you won't turn back again now without even letting me offer you a drink? Or a snack, maybe?"

Credence swallows, and Percy tracks the movement of his throat hungrily. "I really came to talk to you about Jesus."

Percy thinks he does an admirable job of neither laughing out loud nor telling the boy, "sure you did," and pulling him inside unceremoniously. Using every ounce of self-control, he takes a couple of steps back and beckons the boy inside. "Since I'm such a sinner, I suppose that would be a good idea."

Credence looks a little surprised and a lot nervous now, but he nods and steps inside willingly. His eyes are so focussed on Percy's, he doesn't even notice the door falling closed behind his back, apparently by itself.

* * *

Percy refuses to hear a word about Jesus until after Credence has accepted a glass of lemonade and a plate of sandwiches. He watches him swallow the cool, refreshing drink. Then he watches the way his even white teeth sink into the rye bread slices filled with turkey, sliced egg, cucumber and mayonnaise. He watches him so intently, he even notices the one slightly pointy canine, as though he was a vampire in training, and it's endearing enough to make him want to kiss the mayonnaise off the red lips immediately.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Mr Dandridge?" Credence asks. He sounds anxious, and maybe a little hopeful.

Percy sees no point in lying. "Because you're beautiful, Credence."

Credence starts to cough on a few crumbs, his eyes wide and watering. He stares at Percy in disbelief. "I'm not!"

"Oh, but you are." Percy reaches out and winds a strand of glossy black hair around his index finger. "Did your dreadful foster mother tell you otherwise? Don't listen to her." When Credence opens his mouth as if to protest, he explains, "People like her enjoy making you feel bad about yourself. Don't give her the satisfaction."

"You shouldn't—" Credence's voice is trembling.

Percy doesn't think it's with anger at him for putting down the dragon. "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." When Credence gapes at him, he smiles. "Isn't that in the bible?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then it seems to me you richly deserve the kingdom of heaven."

"Ma..." Credence hangs his head, sighing.

Percy lets him gather his thoughts, but no defence is forthcoming. He figures it's not easy to turn around years of conditioning, but he's not above using the woman's own weapons against her. "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."

Credence meets his eyes. "Are you... a Christian, Mr Dandridge?" He's confused.

Percy doesn't blame him. He grins. "Afraid not. I'm a heathen through and through, Credence. I've just been around so long, I got bored enough even to read your Bible."

"What do you mean, sir? You're not... not old."

Percy chuckles. "I'm a lot older than I look." He reaches for the paper Credence has placed on the sofa between them: it's all about the evils of sinning and the need to set sinners on the path of righteousness. He grins. "Did you come over tonight to set me on the path of righteousness?"

"Y-yes?" Credence murmurs softly, then reasons feebly, "You admitted you're a sinner."

"Mmm." Percy smiles at him. "There's just one problem. Two, actually." He scrunches up and throws aside the flyer, then he takes the nearly empty sandwich plate from Credence's hands and puts it down on the coffee table.

Credence's eyes follow the two objects as if seeking distraction from whatever is about to happen next.

"I quite like the path of sin, though I'd love some charming company to walk it with me."

A plush lip is drawn between white teeth. Credence is still avoiding his eyes, but his heart is pounding audibly. "What's the other problem?"

Percy lifts his chin with two cool fingers. He feels the boy shiver, but he doesn't withdraw. "You are, Credence." He looks over the blushing face, the darkening eyes, the trembling lips, and he knows he's never been more tempted in his irritatingly long existence. His voice drops, low and rough, when he explains, "You can't tell a guy to starve himself while you're putting a feast in front of him."

"Mr Dandridge..." Credence breathes, the scent of his fear now well and truly overpowered by the scent of his excitement.

"Percy will do, baby, but if you want to be formal with me, that's kind of cute too."

"You... you shouldn't..." Credence isn't getting anywhere with his protesting.

Percy figures he knows why. "Whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours."

"You shouldn't..." Credence tries again, gets a little further this time, "... quote the Bible, if... if you don't mean it."

Percy laughs huskily, his cool breath on the upturned face making the boy's eyes drift closed for a moment. "I mean every word, Credence. Since you moved in, there's one quote in particular that I can't get out of my mind."

"What's that?" Credence whispers, despite himself.

"Love thy neighbour as thyself." Percy's free hand settles on Credence's knee, sliding up and down his thigh a little. "How do you feel about that one, hmm, baby?"

Credence is trembling, his thigh muscles clenching and unclenching under Percy's hand. "It's considered one of the most important phrases in the bible," Credence admits.

"There you go then." Percy grins. "Your big book is practically telling you to let me have my wicked way with you."

Credence's eyes go comically wide. "I'm sure that's not—" He doesn't get to finish.

Percy has run out of self-restraint. His hand has abandoned Credence's chin to hold his nape, firmly, and he kisses him with a ferociousness he usually reserves for a final feeding. He's dizzy with the way the boy's scent intensifies and his blood starts thundering through his veins.

Credence's arms are uselessly at his side, fingers of one hand clenching a sofa cushion between them while the other just dangles alongside him. He doesn't fight Percy off, he just lets himself be pressed into the sofa back, a moan rising up from deep inside him when Percy pushes his knees apart to surge up and place his left knee between them, looming over Credence, not letting go off his mouth until he whimpers.

Then he looks down at him, groans at the way he's licking his bruised-looking lips. "I'm going to feast on you, Credence, I hope you realise."

"I... how..."

Percy smirks. He remains where he is, reaching down to undo the boy's belt and trousers. "Want to try and guess?"

Credence blushes, shaking his head frantically.

Percy laughs. In a moment, he's on his knees between the long legs. He slips off Credence's shoes and socks, then yanks the too short trousers and worn underwear down over Credence's hips and right off him.

Credence startles, clearly not having expected to end up as naked as all that so quickly, both hands now gripping velour as if it's somehow going to anchor him through what's to come.

"Look at you," Percy growls, taking a few moments to appreciate every inch of creamy pale skin from Credence's belly and hips to his long, narrow feet.

Credence whimpers. His flush covers his whole face, and he looks on the verge of tears.

"Hey, you okay, baby?" Percy leans near, cups his face with one hand and strokes his hair with the other.

"You... you're looking at me," Credence mutters, trying to avert his eyes.

Percy won't have it, keeping his gaze dead centre. "I sure am. Didn't I tell you you're beautiful? Hmm?" He kisses a pink cheek, the sharp edge of the boy's jaw on the other side of his face, his brow, then his mouth as briefly as he can without getting carried away.

"You did. I just... didn't think you meant it."

Percy looks him straight in the eyes. "Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee."

Credence blushes deeply, easily recognising it from the most scandalous part of the bible, but does his best to keep eye contact.

Percy unclenches one of the long-fingered hands from his sofa and brings it down, moulding it over his rock-hard cock, which is putting a strain even on his loose sweatpants. "Feel that?"

Credence gasps, nods hesitantly. 

"That didn't happen because I get turned on by bible verses, you know."

A little bubbling laugh escapes Credence's mouth, and Percy has to kiss him again for that.

"You're so damn cute, you know that?" Percy whispers against his lips. He cuts off any possible denial with another kiss and, this time, the boy responds. He doesn't know what he's doing, but when given a tongue to suck on, he sucks it, and Percy groans, pulling him closer, to the edge of the sofa, before reluctantly releasing the sweet lips and kneeling down again, eyes on the boy's.

Credence blushes furiously. "Are you going to..."

"Oh yeah." Percy gives him a one-sided smirk and spreads his legs wide, then leans down and presses cool kisses to the firm, smooth skin of Credence's inner thighs. His scent is intense there, dizzyingly so, and Percy hopes he won't scare him with the animal grunts he can't quite suppress. Judging by the state of the impressive cock he brushes his knuckles against, he thinks there's not much danger.

Credence is whimpering each time they touch the underside of his cock and, by the time Percy finally closes his hand around it, he's seconds away from coming, legs tensing up and breath held.

"Want me to slow down or let you come?" Percy asks.

"Please, let me..." Credence bites his lip.

"You got it, sweet thing." Percy wraps his fingers around him and strokes him—firm, tight strokes, slick from the way the boy is steadily dripping already. Credence is squirming and moaning under his touch. "So pretty," he encourages. "Go on, let me see you spill all over yourself."

"Mr Dandridge," Credence whines, probably embarrassed at the way Percy is talking.

Percy only smiles. "I bet you've just been bursting to come, baby, for a long time. Probably been told it's sinful. But I'm going to make you." He slows his strokes briefly, but tightens his hand. "Not just once, but over and over." He speeds up again.

Credence moans, one hand still gripping the seat cushion, the other reaching up and back, holding the top of the backrest, and he comes almost violently, long spurts as high up as his tie, dripping down his shirt and raining down on his thighs.

Percy doesn't stop stroking until he's nearly completely soft and whimpering. Only then does he slowly let go of the slippery, limp cock, laying it down against Credence's thigh while he starts to clean him up with his tongue.

"No, you... you shouldn't." Credence is squirming again, this time because he's oversensitive and embarrassed.

"It's only polite," Percy tells him, his tongue making quick work of every trace of semen clinging to warm skin. "Besides, you taste..." he smiles "...divine."

The boy is blushing again, having no idea how that subtle rush of blood just below the surface of his pale skin affects Percy. He drops his eyes and gasps in horror. "Oh no!"

Percy takes in the mess that is Credence's tie and shirt and tilts his head. "Ah. I didn't think about that."

"Ma will kill me!" Credence declares.

Percy frowns up at him and, judging by the way his fear completely eclipses every other nuance of his scent, he's being serious. "Wait here, just a moment."

Credence nods, hyperventilating while Percy hurries upstairs, thinking about the boy's disturbing statement, and returns with a short blue bath robe. He holds it open. "Strip, and put this on, and I'll throw your clothes in the wash."

Credence stumbles to his feet, quickly undoing his tie. He sets it aside, clean side down, and starts unbuttoning his shirt from the top, then stops and chews his lip.

"I'll close my eyes," Percy says, humouring him.

Credence removes his last item of clothing and quickly slips into the bath robe, then lets himself be turned around while Percy ties the belt. "Thank you, Mr Dandridge."

"I wonder what I'll have to do to you before you call me Percy." Percy doesn't wait for an answer. He smiles and takes the shirt and tie into the laundry. He quickly rinses down the tie and hangs it over a coat hanger, then he throws the shirt into the machine on the quick cycle.


	2. I Held Him, And Would Not Let Him Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features the least graphic vampire violence you'll probably ever read. I can't imagine it upsetting anyone, but thought I'd let you know it's there. There's also disposal of a body; you can guess whose. Yay!
> 
> It also features the most smitten vampire you'll probably ever read. :D

When Percy walks back out into the living room, Credence isn't there.

He's started exploring, wandering into the kitchen, running his fingertips along every surface, eyeing the kitchen gadgets with interest, and looking at the fruit bowl brimming with green apples with something akin to wonder.

"Want one?" Percy offers with a smile.

Credence looks as if he's been caught stealing. "I shouldn't."

"Why on Earth not? Don't tell me apples are sinful?"

"Well..."

Percy laughs. "This is suburbia, baby, not paradise." He walks past Credence, fetches a kitchen knife and plate, and quickly cuts an apple into eight parts. Then he holds one in front of Credence's mouth.

Credence looks into his eyes as he closes his lips over it, letting it be pushed between his teeth. He bites off and crunches on one half of it, then does the same with the other, not taking his eyes off Percy's.

"You know, if this _was_ paradise, I'd be the serpent," Percy says huskily, feeding him a second piece, slowly.

And Credence smiles in such an innocently sexy way, Percy can't help musing, "Or maybe not. I might be Adam. Or even Eve." This makes Credence laugh.

Percy thinks it's a very good sign that he can laugh at a religious joke now. He eats the next piece, and Credence watches him closely.

When it's Credence's turn again, Percy crowds him against the kitchen island, kisses his downy cheek, then the side of his neck, inhaling the warm, sweet scent of his blood with relish. The boy shivers when Percy licks his skin, as if preparing to bite. When Credence's hands tighten on his shoulders and he whimpers, Percy moans softly, his fangs extending. He fights a quick but decisive battle with himself and lets them graze gently along the flesh, not marking it.

Credence gasps. "Your teeth are very sharp."

Chuckling, Percy kisses his throat. It's safer. "You have no idea, baby." He moves gently against Credence, who's just about his height, feeling him hardening again already against his hip. He decides he loves the thin, silky bath robe more than ever. "Someone is really enjoying the taste of apple."

Credence makes a valiant attempt to speak, but his voice is paper thin. "Might not be the apples."

"No? I guess it could be the taste of sin." Percy presses into the slim hips, the boy's moan caught in his mouth. He kisses him until he's mined the sweet mouth for every drop of apple juice, then slides the next piece inside. "Something to keep your palette wet while I help myself to the second course of _my_ feast."

Credence asks the question with his eyes, his mouth busy chewing.

"You'll enjoy this almost as much as I will, trust me." Percy pushes the bath robe up at the sides, hands tightening on Credence's hips, fingers squeezing. Then, causing a surprised and slightly shocked gasp, he spins him around and runs a large hand up his back over the robe, slowly making him lean forward. "Trust me," he says again.

Credence lets himself be pushed over the counter, squeaking when Percy flips the robe up over his arse, both hands tracing the smooth skin of his cheeks while he kneels behind him.

"Better than any apple I've ever seen." Percy's voice is as rough as gravel. He showers the pale globes with tender kisses which quickly turn into nips and bites. "More of a peach, really."

Credence whines a little with embarrassment, but the scent of arousal positively clings to his bare skin. "You're not going to s-sodomise me, Mr Dandridge?" He sounds at once hopeful and worried.

Percy smiles. "Not just yet. I think you need to get used to me back here first." And with that, Percy parts his cheeks, one thumb brushing gently over Credence's tightly clenched hole. 

Credence jolts, involuntarily straightening up a bit.

Percy holds him firmly in place. "You'll love this," he says, and then he leans in and _licks_.

Credence cries out and his knees give in but, between the support of the solid counter and having two extremely strong hands gripping his arse cheeks, he manages to stay on his feet. "Oh... Mr Dandridge!"

Percy is relentless. It takes a couple of minutes before Credence relaxes even the slightest bit, and he can wriggle his tongue tip inside. He hums at the tight heat, the quivering of the slight body completely unused to being pleasured. What really gets to him are the soft cries and whimpers. He kneads the firm flesh under his hands, careful not to pierce it with his nails. He can't quite retract them, just like his fangs; and it's not even blood lust he's feeling. If he was alive, this boy would be the death of him.

Credence's legs are shaking. He seems torn between pushing back onto the thrusting tongue and trying to escape the stimulation.

Percy makes up his mind for him. He reaches through between the spread thighs, cupping the twitching cock in his cool hand, while he spears the wet, clenching hole.

"Please, Mr Dandridge, I can't..."

Percy thinks he can, slurping obscenely, squeezing the dripping shaft, edge of a nail just grazing the head.

"Oh God, please, I..."

There's a soft wail that really gets to Percy, along with a generous trickle of seed. No one has ever been this responsive, or this delicious, and he pulls Credence back until he's all but sitting on his mouth, his tongue thrusting and circling tirelessly inside him.

The boy is sobbing, slumped over the counter top, forehead pressed to his arm. "I'm... I'm going to... Ungh!" And he does. 

Percy's hand ends up wet with Credence's release. It's dripping through his fingers, sliding over his wrist and forearm, while the tight channel spasms around his tongue. When he pulls out, he kisses the shiny pink hole softly, spur of the moment, and a little whimper tells him Credence has noticed.

The boy turns around slowly, the robe falling back down over his arse. The fabric at the front has a few damp spots, and he looks down at Percy where he's still kneeling on the floor. His face is flushed and his eyes are glassy, and Jerry can't wait any longer; his cock is ready to work itself out of his pants.

He pushes his sweatpants down far enough to free it, and wraps his sticky, damp hand around it with a groan of relief.

Credence watches, holding his breath, as Percy rubs _his_ semen into the shaft, his own adding to it soon enough; watching Credence go through two orgasms has been more than a strain for Percy. Slowly, Credence slides down to his knees too, until they're eye level.

Percy meets his eyes, keeps stroking himself. When he feels the hesitant fingers join his in the effort, he groans and speeds up. The inexperienced extra hand slows him down, but the feverish eyes watching the process turn him on fiercely, so it all evens out and, in what feels like only a few strokes, he's hissing, coming like a jet straight up and over both their hands.

Credence is breathing almost as hard as he is. And then he does something completely unexpected. He raises his hand, examines it, and tentatively licks a streak of Percy's semen off the back of it. "Tastes interesting," he declares.

Percy laughs. He can't help it. The boy's expression is adorable.

When Credence meets his eyes, he looks surprised for a moment, and then he's laughing with him. He's laughing so carefree and joyfully, it makes him even more beautiful.

Percy can't stop looking at him, feeling suddenly too soft and caring for his own good. He's getting attached, horribly attached, and it almost terrifies him. But it's already too late, he knows. 

Credence's laughter is slowly dying down as he returns his gaze, almost as if he's worried he's overdone it. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Don't apologise for being happy," Percy tells him.

"But I..." Credence's face falls, his eyes close and his shoulders hunch. "I can't... can't be like this when I leave here. Ma... ma would..." 

"Credence." Percy wipes his hand on his T-shirt and raises the boy's face. "You don't have to go back there."

Credence stares at him. "But—"

Percy shakes his head. "You don't. You're of age, right?" It vaguely occurs to him that a better man might have made sure of that earlier than this.

"Yes, but..." Credence's eyes dart around wildly, even while Percy is keeping his head still. "I don't know how... what to do. I have no money, nowhere to go, no job. Ma... ma always tells me I'd be lost without her."

"She _would_ say that," Percy growls. "Because she wants to keep you under her thumb." When Credence looks as if he's going to protest, Percy shakes his head. "You know I'm right."

Credence looks torn.

Knowing he needs help making up his mind, Percy says, "I have plenty of money for us both to get by. You needn't worry about a job any time soon. We'll go somewhere else, we won't stay here right across the road from her." Even as he's talking, he's wondering if he's gone mad, but the words keep coming out, and he realises he means it all.

"Are you asking me to live with you?" Credence's voice is full of disbelief.

Percy doesn't blame him. It's more usual for him to ask people to die for him, not that Credence knows that. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"I..." Credence looks towards the front door, frowns, looks at him again.

"You can think about it, baby. I don't expect you to decide on the spot." 'Not like I did,' Percy thinks. "I mean, you're probably worried about your sisters."

Credence slowly shakes his head. "No, I... she doesn't hurt them, not as much."

Percy stares at him, feeling as if he's just been hit with a brick. Credence's earlier remark comes back to him. "Hurt? What do you mean by hurt, baby? You're talking about the religious mania and the telling off and all that, right?"

Credence lowers his eyes, bites his lip.

"Baby, talk to me." Percy reaches for him, draws him closer, starts to untie the bath robe again; he has a different purpose this time.

Credence is shaking now.

"Shhh, it's okay. Show me."

"You won't want me to stay anymore once you see."

"That's not even possible," Percy says with authority. "Come here." He slides the robe slowly off the narrow shoulders, strokes his hands over the shivering flesh, pulls Credence against his chest and holds him close while he looks down his back as he's slowly revealing it under the robe—the one part of his body he hasn't seen until now, the one part Credence wouldn't _let_ him see while taking off his shirt earlier... _Fuck._

Credence is sobbing softly against his shoulder.

"Hush," Percy says, as he stares at the criss-crossing scars of a whip, or a belt, or fuck knows what. "Hush," even as he wants to scream for that bitch to come and show herself for _her_ punishment. "Hush," as he kisses a bare shoulder, runs his cool hands soothingly over the scene of her crimes; years' worth of them, by the looks of it. "You're beautiful, baby. Beautiful all over, inside and out. She can't take that from you. No one can."

Credence is crying openly now and clinging to him, and Percy goes from kneeling to sitting on the floor properly and draws him onto his lap.

"I'm sorry, but it's decided now. There's no way I'm letting you go back over there." Percy holds him tight, but his hands are gentle over the scars. It's nothing he can't heal, at least on the outside; being what he is has its advantages. "If you decide you don't want to be with me, you'll always be free to go, Credence, and I'll help you any way I can. I'll help you make a new start. But you can't stay with her."

Credence raises his head, tears are clinging to his lashes. "You still want me?"

"More than ever, baby." Percy runs a hand through his hair, and Credence leans into the caress. "I hope, so much, you'll want to stay with me, but it'll be your decision."

"Yes," Credence says. "Yes, please."

Percy lift his chin. Credence's scent is infused with something new, even more potent than his arousal earlier—joy. It's overpowering every other nuance right now, and it leaves Percy dizzy with the same. "Yes?"

Credence nods, smiles despite the tears still rolling down his cheeks. "I want to be with you."

Percy tries to keep his own pleasure at that in check. He has to, for now."There's something you need to know about me before you make a final decision on that, Credence," Percy confesses, "but I promise you that you're in no danger with me."

"I know," the boy says, with perfect conviction, as if he isn't sitting on a vampire's lap, on a kitchen floor.

Percy looks at him. Just looks at him. "Credence, do you know what I am?"

"A sinner, you told me," Credence says at once. "So am I now. I don't mind."

Chuckling, Percy takes his hand and lifts it to his mouth. "You're a perfect angel, baby. I'm not even human." When Credence frowns, he explains, "Remember me telling you I'm a lot older than I look?" Credence nods. "Try a few hundred years older."

Credence laughs a little nervously. "That's not possible."

Percy isn't laughing. He lifts the boy's hand to his lips and slides the tip of his index finger between them, hoping he'll be able to control himself. He opens his mouth just far enough to reveal the points of his fangs, giving Credence time to withdraw.

He's not moving at all, except for a slight tremble, and he's not breathing, just staring in... awe, almost, as Percy touches a single fang to the dainty tip of his finger and slowly pierces the flesh.

Credence gasps, jolting no harder than he might if this was a medical procedure.

Percy, on the other hand, is shaken to his core at that first, tentative taste. So warm, so sweet... like the juice of some ancient fruit perfectly preserved in a shrine. He can't suppress a sob as he swallows the few precious drops of Credence's blood welling forth. It's almost as if they are jump-starting his ancient heart, which should not be possible; they cannot be potent enough. And yet... and yet. He looks at the boy almost helplessly.

"I thought vampires only existed in stories," Credence murmurs.

"Horror stories," Percy tells him, self-deprecatingly.

To his surprise and confusion, Credence shakes his head. "Are you stronger than... people? Unable to be hurt?"

Percy holds his hand tight, squeezing his fingertip briefly for just one more precious drop, then licking across the tiny wound and sealing it. "Mostly, yes. But if you ran away from me in fear now, Credence, it would hurt me a great deal."

Credence's beautiful eyes turn impossibly soft. "I won't, Percy. I couldn't."

Percy, finally hearing his first name from those perfect lips, can only whisper, "Why not?"

In lieu of an answer, Credence tilts his head and kisses him so tenderly, it's almost more than Percy can take. But he allows the soft press of warm lips, the sweet breath mingling with his when he opens his mouth a little. He groans when Credence's tongue tentatively explores his mouth, knowing he must be tasting his own blood in there and not minding. Smooth, pale hands cup his face, touching it as if he's the fragile one, stroking and caressing lovingly.

The kiss leaves him dazed, and he's not the only one. Credence looks flushed, but also soft and pleased.

At least until there's a violent interruption.

 _"Credence!"_ comes a yell from right outside the front door. A fist starts pounding on it.

Credence starts shaking immediately, and the joy is gone at once as he all but rolls himself into a ball in Percy's arms.

"Credence, get out here this minute! I know you're in that house, with that man."

"Go upstairs, baby," Percy tells him calmly. "Go into the bathroom, at the top of the landing, lock the door if it'll make you feel better, turn on the fan and run the water—in the sink, the shower, and the bath."

"But—"

"Trust me, baby. I'll come and get you once everything's okay. I'll be a little while though."

Credence nods. He stands on shaky legs, but Percy helps him the rest of the way up.

" _Credence_ , you sinful boy! I knew, I always knew—"

Percy tunes her out, gently re-ties Credence's robe, gives him a nudge towards the stairs. "It'll be okay. I promise. Wait for me." He presses a quick kiss to the trembling lips.

Credence tries to smile, then turns and runs up the stairs.

Percy waits until he hears the lock upstairs shut and the noises starting up, and he goes to answer the door.

Mary Lou Barebone stares at him, her next scream for Credence about to make it out into the night, but her air supply is cut off by an inhumanly strong grip around her neck.

A quick glance across the road shows Percy that the girls are either inside or didn't come home with her; he'll worry about that later. The house to his left stands empty at the moment, the people on his right are on holiday. He's fairly sure no one's heard her further away than that. He pulls her inside and hauls her into the laundry.

While Percy disposes of her, he treats her to a few bible verses too, because she's so fond of them. "Whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst." She looks dead scared when his fangs descend, and all he can think about is Credence's tangible fear of this woman, so he takes his time. "The water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life." He grins at her and says, just before he bites down, "That eternal life will be for Credence. For you? No life at all, I'm afraid. You don't deserve it."

Just before she croaks her last breath, he informs her, "I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and _would not let him go_."

* * *

Credence is trembling when he opens the door to the bathroom and rushes into Percy's arms. He doesn't comment on Percy's change of clothes. He just clings to him. "Is she... gone?"

"Yes, baby." Percy holds him, feels him calm down at once. "She'll never hurt you or anyone ever again." He's a lot calmer too, his self-imposed famine finally at an end for the foreseeable future; he doesn't think too hard about how bitter that bitch's blood was.

Credence looks at him closely then, and he can't help notice the changes: the flushed skin, the bright eyes, the faint trickle of blood over his jaw that Percy missed when wiping a wet cloth over his face and neck. He swallows hard. "What about my sisters?"

"Do you think they'll be okay on their own?"

"I hope so." Credence frowns. "Chastity is two years older than me. I think without ma around, she'll be less... unhappy. Modesty will be okay; she's only eight, but stronger than all of us, I think." After a moment's thought, he adds, "Ma runs... ran a church; I think she paid for the house with donations. We moved in a hurry."

Percy scoffs. He's not even surprised.

"I don't know how much money there is left to live on," Credence says with concern.

Percy waves that away. "I'll see to that. And Credence?" He strokes a pale cheek, gratified that Credence doesn't flinch away, despite the blood on his knuckle. "I can make them forget you, if you think it'll be easier."

"You can?"

* * *

Percy is good at moving stealthily in the dark, and once he has Credence dressed in a baggy dark sweater of his, and a pair of his jeans held up just barely by a belt, both of them make their way across the road.

Credence lets them into the house, where the girls are preparing dinner, not yet worried Mary Lou hasn't returned; it's only been minutes.

Percy makes them forget, leaving them sitting at the kitchen table in a daze which, he tells Credence, will last an hour or so. The forgetting will be permanent.

He slides an envelope of large banknotes into the top drawer of Mary Lou Barebone's desk in the living room, exchanging it for any papers relating to Credence. He thinks it's a shame he can't erase all traces of his foster mother, but her name would be all over the girls' lives, from receipts to the deed to the house.

Once he's helped Credence to finish packing his all too meagre possessions, they leave the house through the back door, stopping off again in the kitchen. Credence presses a soft kiss to the smaller girl's temple; she doesn't react.

Percy watches him affectionately, then offers him a hand. "Ready?"

"Yes, Percy."

* * *

Percy offers to take care of what's left of Mary Lou on his own, suggesting Credence wait for him back home, but he insists on going with him. Percy finally relents, even though he won't allow Credence anywhere near the garage while he heaves her into the boot in suitable packaging—a large rubbish sack.

They drive out of town in silence, with Credence chewing his lips and Percy reaching over every minute or two to stroke through his hair or touch his cheek or place a gently squeezing hand on his knee, to let him know he's there, everything's going to be okay.

Credence throws him grateful sideways glances.

Finding a lonely spot is easy enough in the desert, and a controlled fire fuelled by the petroleum in the plastic bag, a little extra petrol, and the hellfire and brimstone beast inside the bag, is quick and efficient.

Credence watches the flames in the rear view mirror for a minute, then flips it up while murmuring a short prayer for Mary Lou's soul under his breath.

Percy, after burying the ashes and any unburned remnants of that particular existence, throws the shovel into the boot. When he slides back into the driver's seat, Credence meets his eyes.

"I'm sorry," says Percy.

Credence shakes his head. "Don't be. I would have always worried about Modesty." When Percy nods, he says, "Thank you, Percy."

"Anything for you, baby." Percy squeezes his hand. " _Anything_ , do you hear?"

Credence looks amazed, nods, and even tries for a little smile.

Percy is relieved to slowly feel emotions leaking back into Credence's scent. It was disorienting to have his brief earlier warmth and joy shut down all at once with Mary Lou's appearance on the door step.

* * *

By the time they get home, deciding not to rush off in the middle of the night and raise suspicion, a new calm has settled over Credence.

The first thing they do is head to the bathroom—Percy to wash off every trace of Mary Lou Barebone, and Credence because he's just more comfortable not being alone right now. They stay in the shower, together, until they're both clean and warm and ten times more relaxed. Under normal circumstances, Percy doubts he could keep his hands off Credence while sharing a shower but, right then, he just wants him to be comfortable, so he sneaks in a head massage while shampooing his hair and presses tender kisses to his face while rinsing him off.

They're both wearing clean, warm bath robes when they go downstairs. Neither of them feels like food, but they have a large glass of milk each. Percy has warmed Credence's a little, sprinkling in a pinch of nutmeg to help calm him; Credence gives him a grateful smile as he wraps his hands around the warm drink.

When Credence peers through the living room blinds at the house opposite, seeing movement in the kitchen—presumably his sisters once again fully conscious and moving around—Percy steps up behind him and kisses the back of his neck.

"Do you think she would have told them where she went?"

Credence shakes his head. "I don't think so. She really only gave us orders, never information."

"There'll probably be a search by morning. Someone will come by at some point to ask questions. If they come by during the day, and no one answers the door, they'll leave a note. I'll deal with it."

Credence nods and looks at him. "I don't exist, officially." He takes a little sip of milk, licking it off his lips.

"That's right." Percy wraps his arm around his shoulder.

Credence sighs and rests his head in the crook of his neck, asking softly, "Am I evil for feeling more calm than ever before?"

"No, baby." Percy turns him to hold him close. "You don't have an evil bone in your body. And you deserve to feel calm, and safe, at last. I can't imagine what your life must have been like."

Credence wraps his arms around Percy's waist, fingers curling over the plush flannel belt. "May I sleep in your bed with you tonight?" he murmurs.

Percy squeezes him a little tighter. "I've been hoping you'll always want to sleep in my bed with me."

Credence looks up at him, and he looks just plain happy. "Please."

Percy nearly groans at the change in Credence's scent. The fear is gone, for good if he has anything to do with it, somehow leaving room for more of everything else: want, need, arousal, and affection... so much affection.

"Let's go upstairs, baby," he whispers into the warm shell of Credence's left ear. His response is a soft hum, and he leads Credence to the staircase. The arms around him don't let go, and halfway up, where the stairs curve and get a little wider, Credence stops and gently pushes him against the wall, kissing his cheek, then sending a flurry of kisses all over his face and down his neck.

"Can't wait?" Percy asks, amused, tipping his head back, more than willing to allow the adoring butterfly kisses.

"No," Credence tells him, and then he's moving against him rhythmically, undoing Percy's belt in between hip thrusts, his hard flannel-covered cock sliding against his groin.

"Fuck, baby!" Percy loses his balance a little, and Credence takes full advantage. A moment later, Percy finds himself sitting on the stairs, with Credence kneeling a step below, impatiently pushing his robe aside and off his hips and spread thighs.

"Sorry if I do this wrong," Credence says huskily, and then he's mouthing at his cock, alternating between licks and kisses and tentative strokes of his warm hands.

"There's no way you could... _oh, fuck!_ no way you could do it wrong." Percy's elbows hit the next stair behind him, barely supporting him when Credence's wonderful mouth closes over the head of his cock and slides down, down, until he's making choking noises.

"Careful, baby." Percy pats his half damp hair, and Credence looks up at him with big, wide eyes, and the tiny smile around his stretched lips almost makes Percy come right there and then. "You're so good to me," he praises, because he has a feeling Credence will like that. "Your mouth is so sweet and hot."

Credence moans softly around his cock, which makes Percy gasp and squeeze his eyes closed for a moment, just to at least shut off the vision of Credence—and he _is_ a vision—kneeling between his legs and trying to swallow his cock.

"If you keep that up, I won't last long," Percy warns.

Credence doesn't pull off, as he expects. Instead, he shifts and climbs over his right leg, not letting his cock slip from his mouth, just clenching Percy's leg between his firm thighs. And then he starts humping it, moaning.

Percy is cursing wildly now, the sensation of Credence rubbing himself off against his bare leg competing with that mouth on his cock, and he can't decide what's hotter. He only knows even his vampire stamina can't stand up to this. "Baby... baby... fuck... baby!" he's chanting, head lying back on a stair, neck arching, and it's all just sensations; because he can't handle the sight of it as well.

Credence makes a noise around his cock—whether he's trying to say his name or groaning, Percy doesn't know—but the vibration is too much. And then the long fingers clench over his thighs, drawing his attention to the hard cock sliding against his right leg, and he can't hold back anymore.

"Credence!" he cries out, feeling awful that he couldn't warn him and, predictably, Credence coughs and splutters on the first flood going down his throat, but he takes a deep breath and dives back down like a trooper, swallowing rapidly and still sucking, hard. Percy can only watch him and murmur praises, "You're amazing, baby. That's so good... so good."

Credence pulls off, milky fluids dripping from the corner of his mouth, and groans out loud, arching his back as he grinds down hard against Percy's leg.

Percy leans forward, takes his face in his hands, looks deep into his eyes. "Are you going to come like that, baby? Against my leg? Is that what you're going to do?"

Credence nods. He can't even talk, he's rutting furiously, while holding eye contact, both hands steadying him on Percy's thighs.

"Really? Because I want to take you to bed and open you up for me, and then I want to take you and fuck you and make love to you until you—"

Credence cries out, shaking all over, throbbing against Percy's leg even through the thick flannel of the robe. "Percy!" he gasps, spilling into the soft material.

"Oh, baby. Love to watch you come. As often as possible." Percy smirks. "I guess we'll just have to start all over again." He pulls him in and kisses him hard.

He's recovering fast, while Credence is still twitching, dripping down his own thigh, even leaking onto Percy's. He whimpers when Percy rises and pulls him up too. Any mess not sticking to them is absorbed into the bath robes. Percy hoists him up into his arms.

Credence holds onto Percy's neck while he's carried up the rest of the stairs and to the bedroom, and the dark eyes just stare at him, at his ability to even walk, let alone carry him.

When Percy drops Credence onto the bed, shrugs out of the open bathrobe and lets it fall to the floor, then climbs on to hover over Credence, Credence is panting. Percy smiles down at him, opening up his robe with one hand, laying him bare from heaving chest via lovely limp cock to isolated splatters all over his belly and inner thighs.

"Such a mess again, you need cleaning up." Percy dives in, licking and sucking patches of skin both sticky and perfectly clean.

Credence is whimpering softly, long legs shifting and twitching, like he has no idea what to do with them.

So Percy takes him by the hips and shifts him up the bed, then throws his legs over his shoulders while he licks all over and around the pretty cock, then underneath and over his balls. Taking Credence's desperate noises as encouragement and, besides, unable to help himself, he then tips him a little further and revisits his tight little hole.

Credence groans out loud in a way that makes Percy wish he was hard again right now and could just take him on the spot.

"Will you fu— take me, Percy?" Credence says with a plea in his voice. 

Percy looks up at him. "As soon as I can, and as soon as you're ready." He reaches a long arm towards his bedside table, where he finds the lube to help him ease the way.

"I'm ready now," Credence insists.

Percy chuckles softly. "Give a very, very old vampire a chance to recover too."

At this, Credence giggles. And then the giggle dissolves into a series of gasping little breaths when Percy, by sheer willpower, keeps his sharp claws retracted to prepare Credence, a finger sliding in and out of the warm channel gently but steadily.

"Relax for me, baby, open up for me."

Credence doesn't know how, but he bears down on the finger, moaning softly when it's joined by another. He's making a visible effort to relax the tight muscle around the intruders. He's so eager, and willing.

"Yes, like that. That's perfect." Percy kisses his belly, licks over his navel, rests his forehead on his sternum while crooking the fingers inside him, shivering when Credence just howls at the sensation, growing hard against his stomach. "Mmm, that's it."

"Am I doing well?" Credence asks.

"So well. You're perfect. You're making me want you so much." Percy drags his fangs across Credence's belly, making him gasp and shiver. 

"Percy, that feels so _good_!" Credence's moans make it hard to keep control. "More, Percy, please."

Percy groans. He looks up into Credence's eyes, which are fixed on him with nothing less than a demand. But he won't do more than nibble, wanting to keep hearing the quick pulse, living blood flushing that gorgeous cock, lips red hot and begging. Begging for another finger inside his slippery channel, for more pressure from his fangs, for—

Credence's hips jolt up a little, and the tips of Percy's fangs penetrate the soft creamy flesh, and it's hard to tell which one of them groans more loudly.

"Please," whispers Credence.

Percy licks, moans at the taste, and licks again. A single drop of Credence's blood is more potent than anything he's ever consumed, and he doesn't know if it's chemistry, if it's that Credence is somehow... better... somehow _more_ than anyone else, or if it's because he loves him.

Credence sighs and smiles as if he's hearing his thoughts, and Percy looks at him, his fingers moving slowly and tenderly as he kneels, presses a bloody kiss to the inside of a trembling thigh, and wonders...

"Percy?'' Credence's voice is soft, but not fearful or hesitant. "Are you going to... what's it called?"

Percy smiles. "Turn you?"

Credence nods eagerly.

"Do you want me to?" Percy's hand tightens around Credence's leg where it rests on his shoulder, his fingers stilling inside him, sliding out slowly.

"Yes." There's not even a pretence at hesitation.

Percy is in awe at this boy, who was raised on fear, programmed with intimidation, oppressed in every way and who, despite all that, would face death and eternal life with equal eagerness.

"I know it means I have to die first," Credence says almost casually.

Percy shakes his head. "I think... maybe not." He smiles at Credence's surprised look. "There's something about your blood that's special, Credence. About you. Maybe about you and me combined."

At this, Credence's eyes sparkle. He smiles. "That's a nice thought."

Percy couldn't agree more. He leans forward, kisses his cheek, explains softly. "Your blood is unusually potent, Credence. And your resilience..." He's sure he's not keeping the awe out of his gaze, and he doesn't bother trying. "Let's just say I think you could survive being turned."

"You mean I would be both? Alive and... like you?"

Percy nods. "I think so, baby."

Credence tries to digest this, his eyes roam over Percy's face. He looks so trusting, so willing. "Please, Percy. I want that," he says at last. "Even if it doesn't work, if there's a chance I'll die... I want to try."

Stroking his cheek and smiling fondly, Percy murmurs, "You're miraculous, baby." Credence seems to positively glow at that, and Percy decides right there and then to make sure to praise and compliment him any chance he gets.

Credence reaches up, his arms around Percy's neck, and pulls him close. He presses a firm, warm kiss to Percy's lips. "Do it, Percy, please. Do it while you take me."

Percy holds him close, almost feels as if he's feeling blood pulsing through his own veins once again. He barely remembers what that used to feel like, but he's starting to think nothing is impossible with Credence in his arms. "I will, baby."

Credence spreads his legs wide around Percy's hips, reaches for the lube himself, slides slick, trembling fingers around Percy's length where it nudges against his own.

Percy holds his eyes while he kneels, rearranges Credence's long legs over his hips, confirms with one glance that Credence is still wide open, glistening and inviting and _wanting_. He groans at the sight, tightens his jaw while he guides himself through the ring of muscle, with a calming hand on Credence's belly.

Credence gasps, his eyes closing, his lips parting. He's clearly not in pain, though, and his heels press into the backs of Percy's thighs as if to draw him deeper.

"You're so warm inside," Percy tells him, awed, pressing a little further. He slides his hands under Credence, settles him more firmly around his cock, until he's moaning. "Good like this?"

"Oh yes! So good." Credence licks his lips.

Percy thrusts a few times, confirming that each thrust hits the target exactly right when Credence cries out, his cock drooling continuously onto his flat stomach. He watches his eyes shine. He deeply inhales his scent, which is nothing short of an aphrodisiac by now. He has to lean closer, he needs more.

Credence welcomes him when he presses down against him, slim arms around his nape.

Breathing deeply of the skin at Credence's neck, Percy groans. The pulse of his blood is strong and steady here, and it's hot, so hot under his pale skin. The scent of it is more precious than anything Percy can name. He can practically taste it on the air. On his tongue. When he feels Credence arch under him, pressing his throat to his lips in silent offering, he can't hold back any longer. He whispers, "I love you," and then he bites down.

Sweet, tantalising blood wells up against his tongue simultaneously with a flood of hot semen between their stomachs. Credence's cry is one of pure ecstasy, and Percy drinks lavishly of him, continuing to thrust into his body when it becomes clear that Credence's hold on him is not weakening, his pulse not slowing, and his skin not cooling. In fact, his channel only tightens around him, demanding of him that he should come. And he does, harder than he's ever come in all his centuries, replacing every drop of fluid he takes from Credence with a different kind.

Credence's legs hold him tightly to his body while he whimpers under him, and Percy starts to seal the puncture wounds on his creamy neck—two perfect marks as scarlet as Credence's lips.

"I love you too," Credence is murmuring softly.

Percy smiles at him, a drop of blood escaping his mouth and dripping down on Credence's lower lip, where it is licked up. While Credence still clings to him, Percy shifts back, to kneel again, holding him close on his lap. Then he runs a long, sharp nail across his own chest, just above his heart, and Credence leans in at once, running on pure instinct, to drink eagerly.

Groaning, Percy cups the back of his head and holds him there until he's drunk his fill. Just as instinctively as he started, Credence seems to know when to stop and lick back and forth across the wound like a kitten.

"Perfect, baby. Just like that," Percy praises, stroking the soft, dark hair. He lifts Credence's face, his red mouth stained with his blood, and they share a long, deep, messy kiss. At the end of it, when their blood-stained lips part, Percy whispers, "How are you feeling?"

Credence smiles. "Better than I've ever felt."

Percy is suffused with joy. Could it really be? "Let me see your back, baby, please."

Credence raises his brows. "Why?"

"If all went well, I won't need to heal your scars. You'll have done it yourself."

"Oh!" Credence shifts back, turns as far as he can.

A brilliant smile spreads over Percy's face as he runs a hand over the flawless, creamy skin, glowing with health. "Not even a trace of a scar left," he says. "You've done it."

Credence just stares at him. " _We've_ done it," he corrects, then flings himself forward into Percy's arms. 

Percy holds him tight, kissing the pulse gently and comfortingly thrumming at his temple. "We've done it, baby."

* * *

They decide to stay just long enough to ensure everything is working out for Credence's sisters.

There is a search for Mary Lou Barebone, but it is brief. According to the local paper, her sudden disappearance is being treated as suspicious, but there are no leads. Neither the two daughters, nor the neighbours, have any useful information to give, as the small family only moved into town two days prior to her disappearance.

The evening Credence catches a glimpse of Modesty playing hopscotch on the sidewalk after dinner, with Chastity coming outside with ice cream cones for them both, he witnesses the first kiss to Modesty's cheek anyone but him has ever given her.

That night, he happily tells Percy it's okay for them to leave and start their new, very long life together elsewhere.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sweetsorcery) or [Dreamwidth](https://sweetsorcery.dreamwidth.org/). Feel free to drop me a message anywhere. :)


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